Let the Madness Begin
by aunts1384
Summary: This is a story all about how...never mind. It is chaos. It is a Psych/Chuck/anything else I damn well see fit to include crossover. It will include slash because that's how I roll. Some things to know...Shawn is a real psychic who used to be in the CIA, but came home after he lost a friend. He is secretly dating Carlton, who is the son of a demon. You'll find out which soon.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N **Okay, here goes. My mind is a miasma of creativity and I live in a world where all of my favorite TV shows, movies, books, and stories like to blend and co-mingle in one common place. No story is sacred, no timeline or canon. I will take a favorite character and twist him or her (usually him, since I like to write slash) to do my bidding. I am an evil mistress. That being said, I realize that none of these characters belong to me. Neither do the trademarked items, foodstuffs, or computer programs. They are all in my sandbox brain, but I am not claiming any rights to them.

Now, let's get to the meat of this. As you will no doubt read, I am starting off with Psych and Chuck as my first crossover, but this will be a multi-fandom, filled with characters from Psych, Chuck, True Blood, Supernatural, Marvel, DC, and any other fandom I wish to use. I am unapologetic. I will, however, attempt to make this story as seamless as possible. I detest choppy stories that make no sense. Keep in mind this is only the first chapter. All back stories will eventually be explained in due time. Be patient, kind readers. Also, I am in the market for Betas who are as demented as I am, who don't flinch at dude on dude sex, and don't mind the occasional OC. I haven't decided whether I'm going to do any Mary Sue, but it's a possibility. So if you're the peanut butter (which is strange because I'm allergic) to my chocolate, send me a message. Oh, and this is my first published attempt at a fanfic and I am a capricious girl, so try not to get too invested on the off-chance that school, life, or depression tear me away from the forums. Any who, please read, review (constructive, please) and encourage. That is all.

Chapter One: Addicted

As the opening bars to Saving Abel's _Addicted _started playing over the hidden speakers in Shawn's bedroom, he gave a low, throaty laugh. "Oh, that's perfect timing." He commented, and moaned again when the hot mouth around his cock sucked harder. His toes curled. "I swear, I didn't time it like that…" He continued, and then stopped because the sucking stopped. The covers moved and a head appeared. Carlton's eyes met his. "Do you ever stop talking, Spencer? It's not like I can carry on a conversation with you. It's impolite to speak with your mouth full." His lips twisted in a smirk and Shawn laughed. "You're right, how rude of me. Please, continue. All you'll hear from now on is unintelligible moans of pleasure." He curled his fingers in Carlton's hair and gave a gentle nudge back toward his happy place, tugging the covers over his head once more. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Carlton, it was just that the room was cold. He was glad he did cover up when the door slammed open and light flooded the room.

"There you are!" Gus proclaimed, and then eyed the shape of the covers, confused. "And you're not alone." He saw two pairs of feet sticking out of the end of the blanket. "Those are men's feet." He observed, stunned. Beneath the cover Carlton cringed and let go of his dick. Shawn, being the eternal kidder he was, gave a saccharine sweet smile. "Be nice or you'll hurt her feelings." He said to Gus, who was shocked into immobility. Carlton pinched his inner thigh roughly and Shawn yelped. "Ow!" He protested. "Okay, fine, they're men's feet. But the feet aren't ready to meet the best friend of the guy they're currently performing fellatio on, so could you come back another time that isn't now?"

Gus blinked out of his stupor. "Uh…yeah. Can't think…" He started to back out of the room, but then stopped. "Forget about the feet, Shawn. You turned off your phone for reasons that are now very clear, and Chief Vick called me to find you. Have you heard about this vampire thing?"

"Vampire thing?" Shawn echoed, interested now. Carlton pinched him again and he winced. "Oh, right. I'll call her. Get out of here, please. And next time my door is closed, you know the sex knock. Use it."

"Shave and a haircut. Got it." Gus agreed, and then sped from the room as if he were suddenly on fire. Carlton waited for the door to slam before coming up for air. "Do you two have no boundaries? And since when did 'Shave and a Haircut' become a sex knock? You have ruined a perfectly innocent couplet."

"Hey, it works." Shawn protested, and rapped on the night stand. _"We're having sex now, get lost." _He sang. Carlton tried to stifle the laugh, but he couldn't. He burst out laughing and rolled onto his back, tangling in the blankets so they barely covered Shawn's thighs. Shawn shivered and grabbed for more blanket, but Carlton stopped him. "You should call Chief Vick. If Gus mentioned vampires with a straight face, your vision could be coming true. I should probably check my phone too." He said, crawling out of bed. Shawn sighed heavily. He knew there was no use in arguing with the man when it came to his job. "Fine, but you owe me two blow jobs now." He muttered.

"Next time we find time for uninterrupted sex, I promise I will blow your brains out and then fuck the hell out of you. Deal?" Carlton compromised. Shawn grinned a slow, lecherous grin. "I love it when you talk dirty, demon boy. Now get out of here before I decide our jobs can wait."

Carlton stepped forward, gave Shawn a deep and passionate kiss filled with dirty promises, and disappeared in a swirling vortex of flames. It was so cool that he could do that, Shawn thought. He grabbed his phone, turned it back on, and saw that he had six missed calls from Chief Vick, along with seven from Gus and three from Juliet. He didn't bother checking the texts. Chief Vick's desk phone rang three times before she picked up. "Chief Vick." She greeted with a tight voice. Shawn flinched automatically. She wasn't a pleasant person when she was sleep deprived. "Hey Chief, Gus mentioned you were trying to get a hold of me. What's up?" He looked down at his flagging member. Certainly not him. Damn it.

"Thank God, Mr. Spencer. I have been trying to reach you for two hours. Where the hell have you been?" She demanded.

"In my bed, trying to get laid." Shawn answered honestly. He felt her cringe through the phone. "Sorry about that. Listen, I need you at the station ASAP. Have you seen the news?"

"Nope, been a little busy." Shawn replied, grabbing discarded underwear, jeans, and a clean undershirt.

"There are vampires, Shawn. Real, live vampires. Did you know about them?"

Of course he knew about them, he was a psychic former spy who used to hunt down wayward supernatural creatures for a living. "I may have bumped into a couple in my time. I'm on my way to the station now. The best thing to do is not to panic, okay?"

"Tell that to the rest of the station. That's why we need you here. We need a supernatural ball in our court."

"Got it. See you in twenty."

He hung up the phone, threw on a sweatshirt over his undershirt, grabbed a coat, and left his new loft apartment five minutes from his office. Since Operation Bartowsi was now in full effect in Santa Barbara, the CIA had reactivated his status as an operative to provide backup. He'd have to call Chuck to see if he'd heard the news, but it would have to wait. Talking on a cell phone wasn't safe on a motorcycle.

Ten minutes later he parked his bike next to Carlton's vehicle. "At least you two will get some side by side action." He said to the inanimate objects. They didn't respond, of course. If they did, he was going to check himself in for psychiatric evaluation. He told Siri to call Chuck, and she did. Moments later, Chuck's familiar but sleepy voice came over the line. "What is it, Shawn? I just got back from Moscow." He grunted.

"Sorry, Chuckmeister, but now isn't the time for beauty sleep. I don't know much, but apparently vampires are on the news. You may want to check it out. I'm on my way into the station now to do damage control."

"Vampires? Like…your friend?"

"My friend isn't technically a vampire. He drinks blood, but that's where the similarities end. He's a whole 'nother animal." Shawn replied, pushing through the double doors. "I'm in the station now. Can you have Morgan put together as much intel as he can on these people? I'm pretty sure they're Children of Lilith, but I need to know everything. Look for allergies to silver and sunlight."

"Got it." Chuck agreed, shaking off the sleep. They hung up without saying goodbye and Shawn nodded to Chief Vick, who was waving him down. Beside her was Carlton, now dressed as he did every day and wearing the same expression. At work they were adversaries, but in the sack…well, sometimes they were still adversaries. It was more fun that way. He bit back a smile and joined the Chief.

They were in the bullpen, all their attention focused on the television. It was a special report featuring a man and a woman, both beautiful and pale. Even through the television Shawn could feel their preternatural vibes. Definitely Children of Lilith. "This started playing on the ten o'clock news, all around the world. Some have different vampires, but they're all basically saying the same thing. We exist." Chief Vick began, addressing the room. "According to the report they have been working in secret with a few Japanese scientists to create a synthetic replacement for human blood, and have done so successfully. It has been sold at various locations in secret for a year now. To corroborate their claims, they have drawn up statistics proving that mysterious attacks and deaths have gone down in the last year, and feel that they can now peacefully coexist with humans." She paused, closing her eyes and licking her lips. "Honestly, people, I can't believe I'm standing up here briefing all of you on the existence of vampires. It seems so farfetched, even for a Chief of Police who relies on a psychic investigator."

That got a few laughs and glances toward Shawn, who gave a friendly wave. "And speaking of our resident psychic, I believe I will turn the floor over to him. Perhaps he can better prepare you all for the fallout of this international outing. Shawn?" She motioned him forward and he went to stand beside Carlton, who shifted a little to put some distance between them. Shawn bit back a smile. "Thank you, Chief Vick." He scanned the room, feeling the atmosphere. It was clouded with fear, disbelief, awe, excitement, and just about every other emotion he could think of. Vampires had a way of doing that. Some people worshipped them and others wanted to put a stake through their hearts. They were like cilantro. You either loved or hated the herb. "Looking around, I see a lot of fear and uncertainty hovering in this room. It's sort of a black nimbus cloud above your heads, like the poor guys in those cartoons with the storm clouds following them." Pause for laughter. None? Okay. He took a breath and nodded. "Truth be told, I've known that the Children of Lilith were planning their little outing celebration for a while now, but no one would have believed me if I said anything, so I didn't. Half of you don't believe psychics exist, and I'm right here." Still no laughter. Man, this was worse than a funeral.

"Here's what you need to know." He continued undaunted. "Yes, the report is accurate. No, they're not going to turn you into human blood banks. That's what the synthetic blood is for. However, we all know that there are certain types of people who are charmed by the supernatural." Don't look at Carlton. "I'm one of them, truth be told. Don't worry, I won't be looking for any creatures of the night to turn me. But there will be people out there who will. From this point forward, we need to keep an eye on the disenfranchised, the lonely emo kiddies, the men and women looking to make a quick buck by selling their blood. Prostitutes will be at higher risk, so any of you working vice should warn your girls and boys to be safe out there. They won't listen; they never do. But if you notice a trend of prostitutes missing, come to me. I'll put out my psychic feelers and get to the bottom of it. On the other hand, if you find a body in an alley missing some Hawaiian Punch, don't automatically assume that vampires are the culprits. There are a lot of human criminals who will attempt to use vampires as scapegoats for their crimes."

Juliet raised her hand and Shawn acknowledged her. "How can we tell the difference between a vampire murder and a run of the mill murder? Are their identifying marks?"

"Good question. Yes, there are certain identifiers of a vampire murder. The first and most obvious will be extreme pallor. Don't assume that just because they have a couple of holes in their neck that they were killed by Dracula. Generally vampires don't drink as much blood as is in the human body unless they are incredibly hungry, but when they do, they drain a victim. The holes won't be neat, either, and they may not always be on the neck. Some prefer the femoral artery." He tapped his thigh and finally got a few chuckles from the guys. "Autopsy will most likely reveal the presence of saliva if the victim has been killed by a vamp."

"What about killing them?" Buzz asked.

"Don't. We don't want to start a war with vampires, Buzz. They took the first step in creating a peaceful cohabitation with humans, which shows that they are trying to mend their ways. Besides, the type of vampire that came out tonight is very messy when killed. They don't turn into dust or fade away, they explode. I'm talking stepping on a landmine, red mist and entrails everywhere. A few drops of vamp blood will have you tripping the light fantastic for days. It's not a pleasant trip. If you come across a hostile vampire, the best thing to do is to get someplace well lit and loud, with lots of people. They're not supposed to hunt according to their own laws anymore, but some do. Drawing attention to yourself without drawing attention to them is the best course of action. They'll move on."

"Can you tell us if there are any vampires in Santa Barbara?" Carlton asked. Shawn smiled. "I can tell you with complete confidence that there are no vampires we need to worry about in Santa Barbara." He replied honestly. There were vampires here, but they weren't threats. No one caught onto his near lie, thankfully.

The Q and A went on for a while and Shawn fielded every question easily. He closed the meeting with this remark; "The most important thing you need to remember about this little plot twist in our lives is that we are the ones who need to remain calm. I foresee a high volume of panicky 911 calls in the near future, but it will soon die down. We humans don't adjust well to change. In fact, there will probably be more human on vampire crimes, not vice versa, in the next year. Not in Santa Barbara, but in other places. Just stay calm and keep your heads the same way you do with every other case that comes across your desk. That is all." He took a bow and stepped down. Across the room, Gus was staring at him in wide-eyed wonder. He cursed under his breath and went to his friend, knowing he needed to have a good explanation in place. They went into Vick's office and closed the door.

"How the hell can you stand out there and reassure people about vampires when we know nothing about them?" Gus demanded, keeping his voice down. It was a struggle. Shawn pushed a hand through his hair. "Look, Gus…I haven't been completely honest with you about everything. I really am psychic, and I really have come across vampires in the past. Mostly they're good people. I have a couple of vampire buds, in fact."

"Bullshit." Gus spat. "I've known you since we were in diapers. You would have told me if the psychic thing was real long before now."

Shawn sighed. "I wanted to tell you, Gus, but…look, do you remember when we were kids, the night terrors I used to have?"

Gus shrugged, crossing his arms. "Yeah. So?"

"So they were visions. I started having them when I was a teenager. A few shrinks told me they were anxiety dreams caused by tension between my parents, so I ignored them. But then a few years later, when I left home, they got worse. I went to see another psychiatrist who happened to have past experience working with the government and he…well, he recommended that I go in for testing. I can't talk about where I went because it's classified. They found out that I have enormous potential as a psychic and I went to work for the government."

"Which agency?" Gus demanded, not believing him. Shawn shook his head. "Can't tell you, bud. You would be in danger, and I would get into a lot of trouble. Suffice it to say, I worked for the government until four years ago, when I lost a good friend to a nest of vampires. Not these kinds of vampires, though. Anyway, I was so emotionally damaged by the whole thing that my line to the higher powers was blocked. I became useless to them, so they sent me home with orders not to tell anyone. All the jobs I've had, they're part of a cover story to sell the idea of an unambitious, unfocused loser who will never amount to anything."

"And you opened a psychic detective agency? That doesn't track."

"It does if you think about it. In addition to the psychic ability, I also have an eidetic memory, excellent deductive reasoning skills, a genius intellect and a keen eye for detail. It's easy to pass myself off as a psychic with my bag of tricks. You've seen me in action. I didn't have to use my abilities for this job. Recently the pipeline to the visions has been slowly opening, and the powers are starting to evolve." He concluded, and glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. Only Carlton had an eye on him, and could hear everything. With his right hand he gestured to a paperweight sitting on the Chief's desk and it flew to him, landing in his palm. Gus immediately jumped back, his eyes wide with shock. "Holy shit, my best friend is a mutant." He breathed, waving his hands under Shawn's to confirm that there were no wires. His face lit up. "Did you work for SHIELD? The X-Men?" He asked eagerly.

"Again, classified. And the X-Men aren't a government organization. They comply with the government and assist, but they're not on the taxpayers' dime. Honestly, I don't see why the existence of vampires has to be such a big deal when we've gotten used to mutants and aliens in the world. It's just one more non-human species."

"Maybe that's the problem. Humans are being crowded out."

Shawn scoffed. "No way, man. Even if you combined all the non-humans in the world, they would still be outnumbered by humans a million to one. I should know. I've done the research. This is still very much your planet, and will be for a long, long time." He patted his friend's shoulder and sent the paperweight back to the Chief's desk, not realizing that she was on the other side of the door. Thankfully she was the only one who saw.

"Mr. Spencer, please tell me you're not a vampire." She requested in a dangerously sweet voice, a little alarmed.

"I am not a vampire. I am a psychic with a couple of extra tricks." Shawn admitted. He could erase her memory, but maybe having her know that he could do more than pick lottery numbers might be beneficial to his career. Well, his primary career. "Um, I'd rather no one knew about my bag of party tricks for the moment, so can we keep this between us?" He asked her. She gave him a thoughtful look and nodded. "Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Spencer. Both of you go home now. We have plenty of people manning the phones. Thank you for your help, Mr. Spencer."

"All in a day's work, Chief." Shawn replied with a little bow. Her lips twisted in a wry smile and they left her office. They made it most of the way to Shawn's bike when suddenly Gus stopped short. "I just remembered, we need to talk about the feet."

Shawn was momentarily confused. "The feet?"

Gus made a face. "The feet that weren't yours that were sticking out of the covers. The men's feet. Since when do you like male feet? I thought you were all about the female feet? Juliet has nice feet, and unless I'm reading her wrong, her feet are totally into you."

"I'm not a foot fetishist, Gus. Those feet were attached to the rest of a body." Shawn replied, not wanting to talk about it. Gus would eventually want to know who the feet belonged to, and neither he nor Carlton were ready to be out of that particular closet.

"I know that, Shawn. It's just…I'm starting to think I don't know you as well as I thought I did. You and I, we don't have secrets. Now I find out that you're into dudes and used to work for the government?" His voice was going shrill. Shawn made a motion for him to keep his voice down and pointed at the security lights. "We're on Candid Camera, Guster." He said quietly, grabbing his friend by the arm and dragging him bodily away from the police station security cameras. There was a feed down in Castle that was devoted to monitoring the station. When they were far enough from view he said quietly, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything about…dudes. That particular attraction popped up around the same time my abilities began to manifest, and I thought I should keep that a secret too. We all know how you are about your machismo. You love the ladies, and I thought if you knew you had a gay best friend, you might be…grossed out."

Gus considered this and pulled a 'you're not completely wrong' face. "I'll admit, the thought of two guys together gives me the screaming heebie-jeebies, but I'm not going to dump our twisted bro-mance just because dudes give you the warm fuzzies. You're my best friend. We were zygotes together. Brothers from another mother. I'm not going to stop being the chocolate to your peanut butter just because you get it on with dudes, bro. Just don't hit on me and we're cool."

Shawn pulled an exaggerated sad face. "Damn, there goes my chance at some chocolate thunder." He joked. Gus arched an eyebrow at him, decided he was joking, and grabbed his head in a head lock. He felt like doing something macho to break the awkwardness of the situation. "You're not getting rid of me that easily. Now, who do those feet belong to? I swear I won't tell anyone. Do I know him? Is the rest of him as nice as his feet? He has quite attractive feet."

Shawn twisted out of the headlock, laughing. "What is it with you and feet? Tell you what, next time we're together I'll snap a pic of his calves. He has nice calves too."

"No pics, please. Just tell me who he is." He made a pouty puppy dog face and Shawn shook his head. "Not going to happen. Not yet. We're still in the fun sexy time portion of our budding relationship, and he's not ready to meet the codependent best friend of the guy he's shagging. It could make things complicated for both of us."

"Complicated? I knew it! I know him, don't I? It's not Buzz, is it?"

Shawn barked a laugh. "No way, man. Buzz is married, remember? To a woman. Besides, he's not at all my type."

Gus sighed, frustrated. "The only thing I know about your type so far is you like handsome feet. Does your dad know?"

Shawn paled visibly. "No way, man. You can't say anything either. If and when I'm ready to come out of that closet, I will do it my way. I don't need you staging an intervention slash coming out party for me."

Gus rolled his eyes. "Please, you know I would throw one fabulous party." He pursed his lips much like Hollywood from _Mannequin _and gave a sassy three-snap_. _Shawn cringed visibly. "That's both stereotypical and hilarious and I demand that you desist for the sake of gay men everywhere. Side note, we should totally do mannie-petties sometime. My cuticles are horrendous." He stretched out his right hand and examined his cuticles and Gus laughed. "I can't believe I didn't know you were gay before. If there's anything I learned from _Gigli _it's how to tell if a man's gay."

"And that Ben Affleck and J-Lo should never share a screen again." Shawn added, and then yawned. Gus shrugged. "The only reason I have the digital copy is for her yoga scene."

"Gross. Next time, keep that to yourself." Shawn shot back, and covered another yawn. "I need to crash, bud. See you tomorrow…or later today."

"Yeah, you too." Gus replied as Shawn went back to his bike. "Say hello to your friend's feet for me!" He called as Shawn mounted his bike. He throttled the engine, put on his helmet, and flashed a thumbs up.


	2. Let the Madness Begin Chapter 2

**A/N** Hey people! I know I'm supposed to wait a certain amount of time before I post chapters, but I'm an impatient lady. Well, maybe not a lady. I have few ladylike qualities. Any who, I'm having so much fun writing this that I couldn't resist posting a second chapter in the same day. Crazy, right? All the same disclaimers apply, of course. I don't a single darned character, location, or object, damn it. Oh, and I may have made up a couple of locations. I'm only playing with them/torturing them. Fun times. To explain a little...By now you've figured out that I've included Psych, Chuck, True Blood, X-Men, and a bit of Supernatural (Had to explain why Lassie looks so much like Cain, didn't I?) in this sordid tale. Don't worry, I'm not going to keep torturing them for long. I hope you guys have as much fun reading this as I am having fun writing it. I should probably be doing my College Composition and Human Behavior homework, but my characters just won't quit me. As always, read, review, and encourage. E-hugs! Auntie S.

Unable to sleep, Carlton flamed into the secret NSA/CIA satellite substation beneath the Santa Barbara Buy More, appearing behind Morgan, who jumped out of his skin when he saw flames reflected in one of the darker monitors. "Jeez, Carlton! Warn a guy!" He exclaimed, clutching his chest and fanning himself as if he had the vapors. Carlton stepped back, apologetic. "Sorry Morgan, I didn't realize anyone was here. What are you doing here?"

"Chuck called me and asked me to put together intel on some of your cousins, the Children of Lilith." Morgan responded with a yawn, rolling away from his screens.

Carlton sneered. "The Children of Lilith are no cousins of mine."

Morgan frowned. "Aren't you a vampire? You drink blood and have fangs."

"If a thirst for blood and fangs were requirements for being a vampire, a lot of species could claim the name." Carlton countered, sitting at the empty metal table where they usually grouped before or after missions. The electric blue lighting made him look gaunt and tired. Thinking of blood made him thirsty, so he got up again and went to a small refrigerator where donated blood was kept for him.

"If you're not a vampire, what are you?" Morgan asked, watching as he poured half a bag into a white squared off ceramic mug. He heated it in the microwave above the small refrigerator and took his seat again. Morgan tried not to grimace as he watched the man sip the dark red liquid like so much hot cocoa. He licked his lips before he answered. "That's a long story." He replied.

Morgan spun in his chair, motioning around him. "We're all alone down here, and we have all night. I could go for some supernatural story time." He rolled over to the table and propped his face in his hands, blinking brown eyes up at Carlton. Carlton hid a smirk behind his mug and decided it couldn't hurt. It wasn't as if the world wasn't a strange place already.

"Okay, I'll tell you the story." He agreed, took another drink, and set the cup on the table. "Once upon a time," he began, "there was a god. Lower case g, because in the grand scheme of things they're all lower case g's. One day, this god who liked to think he was more important than any of the other deities existing in the universes decided he wanted to recreate the dominant species of this planet in his own image. So he did. A little mud here, a rib there, and he had the first two humans. There were still other humans on this pale blue dot, but they weren't in his favor. In any event, he created a garden for them and animals and told them they had dominion over all. His only restriction was not to eat a piece of fruit from a tree. It was an inane order he knew they wouldn't follow. The guy was like a child, self-centered and mean." He paused, took another drink, and went on. "Lucifer, one of god's fallen angels, took the form of a snake and tricked Adam and Eve into disobeying god, and they were all cast out of the garden to join the rest of humanity, such as it was. For a while, Adam and Eve struggled and toiled and became pregnant with their first children, Cain and Abel. I'm sure you remember the biblical version of their story."

"Right, right." Morgan said in rapt attention. "Abel made good sacrifices, Cain made bad, and Abel found favor with god. Cain became jealous and killed his brother, committing the first recorded murder."

"The first recorded Christian murder." Carlton corrected him. "There were plenty of other murders before them. But that's not exactly how the story goes."

"So what's the real truth?" Morgan asked eagerly.

"The real truth of it is, Lucifer wasn't finished with Adam and Eve and their offspring. He was jealous of the favor god showed the humans, even after they were exiled from Eden, so he pretended to be god. He spoke with Abel, who was born with a twisted, dark soul, and convinced him that he was god. But Cain saw through his guise and knew that if he didn't do anything, his brother's soul would be condemned to hell. So Cain made an offer to Lucifer. If Lucifer left his brother alone and allowed his soul to ascend, he would serve Lucifer for eternity."

He paused again, his eyes growing distant as he drank more. Morgan remained absolutely silent. This wasn't in any version of the bible he'd ever read.

"Lucifer agreed to the condition, with one exception." Carlton continued. "The only way Lucifer would allow Abel's soul to ascend was for Cain to slay his brother himself. Cain grudgingly agreed to kill his brother to save his soul, and as a result committed the first murder of god's favored children. He was cursed by god with the Mark of Cain and wandered the earth alone until his dying day, when he went to hell. Lucifer took him into the fold and he became the first Knight of Hell, the highest rank of demon under Lucifer. He served Lucifer for eons, until one day when Lucifer was locked in a cage and he was free to roam the earth, where he spread his seed and avoided the other Knights he had trained. I am the result of one of his…romantic dalliances. He met my mother in 1835 got her in the family way, and abandoned us soon after I was born."

Morgan's eyes went wide. "You're telling me you're the son of _the _Cain? You're half demon?"

"Indeed." Carlton agreed, and finished his blood. He licked a stray drop from the corner of his mouth. "As a half demon I have some unexpected abilities and appetites, but like my father, I am good in my soul, and like him, I protect humanity."

"Wow." Morgan exclaimed, slapping his small hands on the table. "Just…wow. How many of you are there? Children of Cain, I mean."

Carlton spread his hands in an 'I have no idea' gesture. "Demons aren't big on family reunions, and some of us have embraced darkness more than others. I try to avoid my brethren as much as possible. We can identify each other on sight, so they're fairly easy to avoid."

"That's a relief. Something tells me we're going to have a rough time of it with vampires coming out of the woodwork. I'd hate to see a demonic showdown thrown into the mix." He yawned again and Carlton went to wash his mug out. "Go home, Morgan. I can comb through the records better than you when it comes to the supernatural anyway." He said over his shoulder. Morgan agreed readily and headed home, slapping Carlton's back on the way to the stairs. "It's good to have you on our side, Carlton. I'd hate to go up against you." And with that Morgan bounced up the stairs to the locker exit and Carlton was left alone with his work.

Hours later, Carlton moved stiffly when he heard the door open again. Casey, an early riser, was there, looking as alert as ever. He nodded to the computer screens. "Find anything useful?" He asked. Carlton gave a noncommittal shrug. "Nothing I didn't know already. They're Children of Lilith, allergic to sunlight and silver, nocturnal, survive on human blood and synthetic human blood, which, incidentally, is made with marine worm, and thus far they haven't made any moves to dominate the human species. That particular idea still rests solely with the darker mutants and aliens, unfortunately. Sometimes I miss the days when it was just us demons trying to one-up the lower life forms. No offense."

"None taken. I miss the days when all we knew about were humans." Casey grunted, turning on the coffee pot. "You sticking around?"

Carlton pushed away from the monitors and stood, stretching his neck. It cracked. "No, I have to get to work. Everything I've gathered is in a file marked 'Children of Lilith'. Have fun." He replied, and then flamed out and back to his home, where he showered, changed his clothes, and checked messages. There was one from the Captain, a text. _First casualty found Lawson Pier. En route now. _He cursed. So much for a leisurely morning.

The scene at Lawson Pier was, as expected, swarming with cops. He found Chief Vick and she filled him in on the details. "According to the Jamba Juice manager, he heard a young girl scream, followed by gunfire twenty minutes ago. We haven't found her yet."

"Why isn't Spencer here?" Carlton asked, worried. Usually the psychic was first on the scene of a missing person.

"He and Gus are heading up a search further down the boardwalk. He can't sense her, though. I've got uniforms covering both ends of the boardwalk, trying to get any information on the girl. So far we don't have a name yet."

Carlton frowned. It wasn't like Shawn not to know the details before everyone else did. "Okay, I'll go start questioning the locals." He said, and started walking down the boardwalk. He turned back to scan the crowds gathering when something glittering caught the corner of his eye beneath the pier. Narrowing his acute vision, he saw what looked like something sickly and pale clinging to the bank. At first it looked like it was moving with the tide, but then he saw something twitch beneath seaweed. Fingers. He cursed and peeled off his socks and shoes quickly, rolled up his pants, and went running. Chief Vick watched her best detective running like a madman toward something under the pier and shouted after him. "Lassiter! What is it?" She yelled. He didn't respond. He waded shin deep into late November waters and stooped next to something she couldn't quite make out. It looked like garbage washed up on shore. Picking her way down the dunes, she got to Lassiter as he removed garbage and seaweed from a girl, no more than 18.

"She's still alive!" He said urgently, turning her over. There was a gunshot wound in her left shoulder and her lips were blue. Her eyes were ringed with gothic makeup and in her mouth were two plastic fangs glued to her canines. Chief Vick radioed for paramedics as he lifted her in his arms and carried her up the dunes. He laid her gently on the boardwalk and checked her pulse. It was weak, but it was there. He shrugged out of his coat and covered her with it. Hypothermia had set in. She wasn't shivering anymore. Not caring who saw, he took her left hand and sent a pulse of the hellfire within him, willing it to warm her slowly. Heating her too quickly would only complicate things. Chief Vick blinked, sure that she'd seen something strange, but decided that it was a trick of the imagination.

Paramedics came running and transferred the girl to a backboard, raised her onto a gurney, and loaded her into an ambulance. By then Shawn and Gus had returned to the scene. "Did you find out anything?" Carlton asked Shawn. He shook his head. "I'm blocked today. I don't know why." He responded, sounding like he'd failed at saving the planet. Beside him, Gus was doing his best imitation of a trout, his mouth flopping open and shut again. Carlton eyed him, wondering what his problem was. "Out with it, Guster." He growled, his feet cold now that the adrenaline was fading. He hated being cold. Gus looked down at Carlton's feet and back up again. "Feet." Was all he managed to say. Carlton shot a quizzical look at Shawn, who only shrugged. He sighed heavily through his nose. "Get your friend out of here, Spencer. He's malfunctioning." He growled, and then went back to find his shoes.

Shawn attempted to grab his friend's arm and drag him away, but Gus flinched and spun to face Shawn angrily. "Those were the feet!" He insisted adamantly. Shawn nodded slowly. "Yes, Gus, Lassie does have two feet. We bipeds who walk upright often come with a pair." He said sarcastically.

"You know what I'm talking about, Shawn!" Gus hissed, struggling to keep his voice down. His arms, not so much. He was flapping like an angry seagull. "Those were the feet from last night! His feet! Oh God, I have to go scrub my brains out with lye soap." He moaned, holding his head. Shawn got it then and scrubbed his face with both hands, pulling them down and doing his best Droopy impression. "Gus, calm down. You're making a scene." He said for maybe the first time in his life. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to the illicit relationship between himself and Carlton. Gus froze, his eyes blazing. "You're _sleeping _with Lassiter! What the hell are you thinking?" He demanded, his voice tight and low through clenched teeth. His eyebrows were spasming like epileptic caterpillars. Shawn closed his eyes, took a deep breath. "This isn't the time or the place, Gus. Why don't we go get some food?" He suggested. Gus practically turned green. "I can't think of eating. Like, ever again. Oh God oh God…"

"Will you get a hold of yourself, Gus? You don't know Carlton the way I do. He's a good man."

"He's evil incarnate, and he's at least a decade older than you! I can accept that you're gay, but do you have to be gay with him? He's…Lassiter!" His voice was starting to rise. Thankfully, no one was paying them any attention. Suddenly, one of the posts of a fence that separated the boardwalk from the ocean snapped and Shawn winced. Now that his abilities were evolving, he was having difficulty controlling them. Gus saw the post, snapped like a greenstick break in a bone, and backed away. "Did you…?" He squeaked. Shawn took another cleansing breath. He needed to get away from this new situation for a while. "I'm outa here." He ground through clenched teeth. Gus started to follow, but Shawn warned him off. "Not now, Gus. You'll only make it worse." He seethed, and then took off.

"What's eating him?" Juliet asked. She'd seen their twisted version of charades from the ambulance and came to investigate. An image of the shape of the covers last night flashed in Gus' mind and he groaned, feeling ill. "Wrong question, Jules." He groaned, clutching his stomach and covering his mouth. He ran before he embarrassed himself on the beach, leaving Juliet in the dark. She let her hands flop at her sides. "What is up with everyone?" She wondered aloud, and went back to the car.

Shawn went directly to the most indestructible place he could find, one of the training rooms beneath the Buy More. It was filled with various hand to hand combat weapons mounted on walls in the circular room, all of which rattled in their holders as he entered the room. He knelt in the center of the room, clutching his neck, his head down. It probably wasn't the best place he could have chosen, but he needed to get a handle on these emotions before he hurt someone. The logical part of his brain told him that Gus would get over this, but his reaction brought out shame and anger and a hurt so deep that not even a katana could have inflicted a worse wound.

All of his secrets were coming out all at once, leaving him on shaky ground. Add to it these new abilities surfacing as the flow of psychic abilities returned and he was a Molotov cocktail waiting to be thrown. He yelled his frustration and a sharp scythe went flying across the room, lodging in the wall beside the door and disabling the security panel. Wonderful. Seeing the weapon cause damage helped, though. He stood and gestured at a set of throwing stars mounted in a case. The glass shattered and the stars went flying, all coming directly at him. His spy training kicked in and he dodged them with a twisting backward bend, landing on his right hand hard. It exploded in pain, but the pain urged him on. More weapons went flying, splintering the wooden dojo style walls and burying themselves in the cement behind the façade. It was a beautiful sort of chaos that drained the anger and frustration from him. Sweating from exertion, he panted as a final heavy mace (Who used maces anymore?) rocketed at him. He ducked his head just in time, lost his balance, and fell on his ass. Breathing hard, his mind cleared and he took in the devastation around him. He was going to be in trouble when Casey saw the place. Uh oh. Too late.

"You done with your temper tantrum?" Casey inquired as Shawn yanked the door open telekinetically, his voice unusually average for a guy who normally grunted. Shawn rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry about that. I figured here was better than out there." He motioned toward the world above, where a majority of the community was still innocent humans. Casey gave a minimal shrug. "Did we know you could do this?" He asked, pulling the scythe out of the security panel with a grunt.

"My abilities are still evolving, apparently. This just started." Shawn replied lamely and winced as his right hand twinged painfully. It was already swelling. Casey took the hand without asking, turned it over, and huffed something that sounded like, "Sprained." He let go of the hand. "What brought this on?" He asked as they headed into a room where first aid supplies were kept. He grabbed an ice pack, cracked it, and strapped it to Shawn's arm.

"My friend Gus figured out something I wasn't ready for him to know." Shawn replied, wincing.

Casey gave a short grunt. "You and Lassiter?" He inquired. When Shawn didn't reply right away, Casey said, "I can read body language as well as the next spy, kid. Personally, I don't give a rat's ass where you like to plant your flag. Just don't bring your relationship shit to work. It's reckless." He warned, glancing back at the destroyed training room. "Duly noted." Shawn agreed. Casey finished fixing up his arm and they went back to the main room. "I'm going to have to report to Beckman that you now have telekinetic abilities, and put in a requisition for a new training room. You may not want to be here when I do that." He suggested. Shawn agreed that he should probably dodge that particular bullet and thanked him.

At home he showered, rewrapped his wrist, and checked his phone. Chief Vick wanted to see him, of course. With the tantrum out of his system he felt drained, but he had a job to do, so he powered through it. Back to the bike he went, considering a more enclosed vehicle now that the weather was getting cooler and he didn't intend to share a vehicle with Gus anytime soon. Now that he was back in the spy game he had a decent flow of cash again. Maybe he should get a Jeep.

Chief Vick was behind her desk, speaking with the mayor of Santa Barbara. "No Sir, she wasn't a vampire. No, she was just a girl playing dress up." She said, exasperated. She waved him toward a chair and he sat. "Yes, that's right. She's stable, but they're watching her. We will find her shooter." She promised, nodding. "Of course. You'll know the moment I know anything. Thank you." She hung up the phone and let out a string of colorful curse words, along with words like 'incompetent' and 'buffoon'. Finally, she turned her attention back to Shawn, giving him a false smile. "I thought you and I should talk about what happened on the boardwalk today. What's going on with your abilities? You usually have at least some idea which direction to go."

Shawn made a helpless gesture and licked his lips nervously. She didn't know that he'd only been pretending to use psychic abilities for the last four years. "To be honest, Chief, I don't know what's going on. I'm like a teenager going through puberty again. My powers are in flux." He gestured wildly and the pen holder on her desk went skittering to the floor. She backed up a little, but held her composure. "I see." She said dryly. He bent and picked up the pens. "Sorry about that." He set the square wooden container on her desk again. She crossed her arms and eyed him thoughtfully. When she spoke again it was from a place of compassion, one she rarely went to. It was hard enough being a female Chief of Police without people thinking she only thought with her ovaries.

"I can't imagine what it's like to have abilities like yours, Mr. Spencer. From the mutant literature I've read, people who exhibit abilities like yours often have strong ties to their emotions. Now, I don't know if you're a mutant or just an unlucky _homo inferior _like the rest of us…"

_Got the homo part right, _Shawn thought wryly. That was part of the problem. His best friend was so disgusted by his relationship with Carlton that he'd nearly puked on Shawn's shoes.

"But I do think that you need a little time to get your head straight. Incidentally, do you possess the X-gene, by chance?"

Shawn's automatic response would have been 'that's classified', but she didn't know about his work with the government. In answering her question, he was damned if he did and damned if he didn't. He decided to be honest. "I do. I manifested as a psychic when I was a teenager. That's all I'm willing to say about that."

For a moment she looked like she wanted to argue, but she kept her opinions to herself. "Very well, Mr. Spencer. I'm pretty sure we can handle this vampire thing for the next few days. Take some time off. Relax. Get a massage, or have your chakras aligned. Whatever it takes to get these new abilities under control, do it. I would rather not have the rest of the department finding out just yet about you. Psychic is one thing, but psychokinetic is an entirely different matter. It would raise too many questions for both of us. You got me?"

"Yes Chief." Shawn replied, relieved. "Thank you for understanding."

"Anytime, Mr. Spencer. Now get out of here. I don't want to see you again until after the holidays."

Shawn had forgotten that Thanks Giving was right around the corner. Great, more tension in his future. He couldn't fathom where all this anger was coming from, but putting his father in its path wouldn't be a good idea, especially when Henry had no idea that Shawn was anything other than a fake psychic whose cover would be blown at any moment. Henry was just waiting for him to fail, and when Shawn did, he would be there to gloat. The window behind Chief Vick cracked as Shawn stood to leave. Chief Vick let out a very uncharacteristic yelp that was almost a scream and sprang to her feet. Shawn paled. "Fuck! I'm sorry, Chief." He apologized. She held up a hand. "Go home, now. I'll take care of it." She said tightly. He left before she made him take care of the bill. As he rushed out, he passed Carlton's desk. Instantly Carlton felt the rage roiling off of him and gave chase, but Shawn didn't want to deal with him at the moment. He needed time to cool off. Again.

Inside his apartment, he shoved the door shut and slammed his fist into it, and then yelled because he'd used his right hand. "Fuck!" He swore, cradling his arm to his chest. Something was definitely wrong. He'd never felt blind rage like this in his life. It made him fill sick and frustrated. He wanted to destroy everything in his sight. Stumbling into the living room, he set his sights on a lamp and the base exploded like a bomb. A terrified yell caught him off guard and he spun to see Gus standing in the kitchen holding a six pack of beer. It went crashing to the floor, the bottles exploding. He jumped back, his eyes wide in horror. "Shawn…your eyes…" He choked out. Shawn barely heard him. All he saw was the guy who was disgusted with him, the guy who judged him for being with Carlton. His voice came out in a snarl of wordless rage and he lunged for the man. Gus let out a girlish scream, and then another when a tower of flames suddenly became a man between them. It was Lassiter. Gus wet his pants a little. "Shawn!" Carlton bellowed, his voice full of demonic power. Shawn tried to get past him, but Carlton wrapped him in an impenetrable steel grip and they both disappeared in more flames, leaving Gus to wonder what the hell he had just witnessed.


End file.
